Wait! Haven't we heard this before?
by admiral jaye
Summary: Let's combine every post Hogwarts 'dramione' cliche & see if people will still read it. Now I bet you're thinking: Why would I want to read a serious story where the author purposely uses a bunch of DMHG cliches? The answer is: got anything better to do?
1. The scene where she's really drunk

**Wait! Haven't we heard this before?**

**AUTHOR'SNOTE: **AH, WRITERS BLOCK! In celebration of writer's block I decided to create a parody of sorts using commonly used clichés in a Draco/Hermione post-Hogwarts fic. I'm going to write this as a normal story including as many cliché dr/hg bits as I possibly can. Throughout this time I will still try and manage to keep you entertained.  
**THEDISCLAIMER: **Would you really sue me if I didn't put one of these dumb things here? Not mine, okay, lets move on.

Chapter one: The scene where she's really drunk.

Hermione Granger, ex-Gryffindor-frizz-ball extraordinaire swaggered through the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, impaling innocent passer-by in her drunken stupor. _Goddamn rum _she thought as she leaned on a window sill for balance. _Goddamn lovely rum. _A voice in her head scolded her - it wasn't the way a proper witch should behave. She was acting irresponsible. Irresponsible just like that miserable Weasley.

That miserable, stupid, sodding Weasley that nearly wrecked her emotional stability.

Nearly? Ha.

He completely disregarded her feelings and their relationship. _This'll show him_!

How it would "show him" she would never actually figure out.

Tonight Hermione Granger planned a night out on town with the bottle, drowning her lonely solemn existence within it's intoxicating contents - um, right.

And so she did.

She wandered, and wandered.

"Heyyyy, wha the…" She paused in her tracks "bugger…." Somewhere between Zonkos and Merlin-knows-where, Hermione found herself smack dab in the middle of Knockturn Alley. "Imma gonna go catch me a Death Eater" she said, with a half smile on her bewildered face.

-

A little bit further in the Alley, everyone's favourite prick-with-a-secret-good-side was obviously in a small pawn shop buying something which was seemed to be illegal. This is what he did: he doddled around the mansion in extremely attractive silk boxers and brought illegal items when he did venture to leave.

Such was the highly sought-after daily life of a Malfoy. Right?

Of course.

He retrieved a pouch from his dark emerald, Persian imported robes and slipped the store clerk a few galleons in exchange for a small package.

"Thank you" he said curtly. After the arrest of Malfoy Sr. and death of Narcissa, Draco had grudgingly accepted the duties of running the Manor after the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

As he gathering his bearings to leave the shop, a laughing mess stumbled into the doorway.

"_Granger?_" he was utterly repulsed. _"_This is Knockturn Alley, I think your stupid arse is lost."

"Hmm?" she said, eyes glazed.

Draco studied her like a specimen for a few seconds and noticed a familiar smell to her.

"Have you…been drinking?" he said, aghast in surprise.

"Haaa, no. Ok, maybe. What's it to you?" Granger retorted, defiantly.

"Granger, you're obviously quite intoxicated. I'd offer to take you home, but you're Granger."

"Ohhhkay. Hey, don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Yes"

"Where?"

"Nowhere."

Granger snorted "C'mon, where? You know my name!"

"We slept together once."

"We did?"

"No. "

Granger snorted again "You're funny."

Malfoy smirked, Malfoy always smirks. "I'm insulted. Goodnight, Mudblood."

---

Hermione paused in the middle of the shop, not noticing the Shop keeper grow uneasy at the term "mud blood"… Hermione however, had been stung by the words.

"Waitttt, I know who you are now!"

She said, flailing her arms not actually wanting to catch him but feeling exciting she figured it out. _ Draco fucking Malfoy! _She sighed in disbelief, out of all people to run into during a Draco/Hermione story she would never had expected to encounter him.

---

Draco looked back in disgust. So the filthy thing remembered him after all; stupid broad waltzing around Diagon Alley completely smashed! Didn't she know the dangers? Didn't _Hermione -whatever her middle name is - Granger_ stop and realise how foolish it was to be a mudblood running vulnerable in Death Eater infested territory? Yes, Voldemort died but yes… the majority of Death Eaters still mistreated Muggleborns.

Her vulnerability pleased him… top student of his Hogwarts class? Head Girl of their 7th year?

And there she was: drunk as a skunk smack dab in Knockturn Alley.

It was all too funny to pass up. She had made her choice (rather the rum made it for her) Now she'd have to wait for the consequences and accept them. Something very evil inside of Draco Malfoy wanted to hang around and see what those consequences might be. So, he did what he never thought he'd do for cheap amusement…he waited until she left and he followed her.

She had grown considerably in the past three years since they left Hogwarts Granted, she was still average, bushy and probably still annoying when sober, but …oh, who was he kidding? She hasn't changed a bit.

In the dark alley it was easy to keep hidden and in her state she was easy to keep an eye on. She walked into an old pub, Draco followed quietly behind and put his hood up so that his blonde hair was hidden from view. He sat down a few stools down the line, ordered some whiskey and watched her create her own humiliation_ Karma has been good to you, Draco Malfoy_ he said, with a smug smile as Hermione started chatting with a couple of skeevy looking robed wizards a few tables away.

Draco guessed she never drank rum before, or anything for that matter. The men started to toy with the material on her navy blue robes, as she sipped a drink they brought for her. She laughed, apparently enjoying the attention. This wasn't the Granger he knew and despised. In fact, this was just downright frightening.

--

_This isn't who you are, Hermione _scolded that voice in the back of her head.

_Let loose, Hermione. Savour the attention. It's not like you'll ever get it again_ replied another.

_Hermione, leave now!_

_Stay -_

_- leave_

_Stay-_

_leave -_

"Stop it!" she yelled aloud. The older wizards around her looked startled.

One of them snickered to the other "She's a fighter, let's take that fight right out of her!"

His friend laughed, a hollow laugh.

_Stay -_

_-leave_

_Stay -_

_leave- _

_- Stay_

Another hand crept to the hem of her robes. "Hey, McNair, let's have some fun."

_Shit -_

_- fuck._

_Shit -_

_-fuck._

Hermione reached for her wand, but saw it dangling above her tauntingly.

"You'll get it back, precious, if you do just as we say."

"I'm s-serious. Give it." Hermione said, putting on a brave face.

"Get up." One said, and she did.

"That's good."

She snarled.

"Now wipe that snarl off your face and come with us."

_Run-_

_-run faster!_

Hermione tried to make a break for it and lunged for her wand. _I hate rum. Loathe it, really starting to loathe it… _she reached for the wand and felt it in her palm. Her legs could no longer hold her, and her mind seemed as if it could no longer function for her. The wand snapped in her grasp as she hit the floor in an unwelcoming thud.

_Goodnight. _


	2. The scene where he proposes an offer

**Wait! Haven't we heard this before? **

**Author's Note:** This story's just a result of writer's block. Review, por favor.  
**Disclaimer:** If I wanted to claim it I wouldn't include a disclaimer. . . Savvy?

Chapter two: The scene where he proposes an offer.

Hermione had nightmares.

_There was a lion trapped in a cage full of snakes – there were other awful Slytherin/Gryffindor metaphors, which was definatley serious foreshadowing. _

_Lips met. _

_Poison. _

_Lust. _

_Rape._

_Desire. _

_People doing naughty things._

_Oh bugger – Malfoy's naked?_

_Then she fell off some random precipice into the arms of a man whose face failed to reveal itself until further chapters. _

Hermione awoke with a yelp (and a hangover, mind you). A house-elf approached her. _Odd_, she thought to herself, _last time I checked I didn't own any house elves._ The elf handed her a mug filled to the brim with potion. "M-m-master says drink up and you be better, Miss."

"What happened, where am I?"

"No. No… me cannot tell, Master said _no_."

Hermione was wary, slightly recalling an awful incident with a drink the previous night. _What was in that stuff, anyway? And who does this house belong to?_

"Please?" she begged the House elf.

"Drink, miss, for your own good."

"N-no thank you, I don't accept drinks from places I don't know…"

Hermione looked at the poor elf, hopeless. A figure appeared in the door frame.

"Well you did a mighty fine job of that last night, Granger." a voice hissed.

"Draco Malfoy?" her jaw dropped almost along with the mug of potion. Hermione's memory still slightly impaired had pretty much forgotten that she ran into him during her Knockturn Alley escapade.

"You… were you…why?"

"Silence."

Hermione was furious. _Out of all the goddamn people to take advantage of her in a bar…that's what happened, wasn't it? Draco Malfoy, her only sworn enemy from her younger years had to grab her at her weakest and destroy her further. Ohhh, if I had my wand, where's my wand? _She felt around in her robes. _Hey, this isn't funny! Where the bloody hell is my wand? _

Frustration quickly turned to panic.

Malfoy smirked.

_How could he still hold this vengence against me? Oh, that bastard will sink low._

"I'm not drinking this."

Malfoy smirked, again (_Malfoy's invented the fucking smirk_) "Fine, stay hungover."

"Did we…you know?"

"You passed out, Granger. You had far too much to drink, met some friends, cracked your wand escaping from your new friends and then you simply passed out." The look on her face must have been priceless. "I brought you here to my Manor."

"Why did you…help me? It's suspcious."

"Because, you can help me in return. I need an attorney." He said, looking at her sort of desperatley.

"What made you think I'm an attorney?" Hermione said quite bewildered by his offer.

It was Malfoy's turn to look utterly confused. "You're not an attorney?"

Blank stare.

"No, I am not."

Malfoy hit his fist hard against the table.

"Why do you need an attorney, ferret?"

"Legal trouble with the ministry, old one quit…you're still going to call me a ferret?"

Hermione sent him a death glare. "Yes."

"Are you _sure_ you're not an attorney?"

Hermione sent him another one. "Yes."

"Well, don't think I'm doing you any favors, Mudblood…but would you like to be?"

Hermione looked at him, puzzled. "Are you insane?"

Malfoy smirked "It's likely."

"Do you pay well?" Hermione said, oddly curious. After all, he did save her in a sense.

"Yes."

"And will I get health and dental coverage?"

"Whatever you say." Draco assured.

Hermione began to protest. "But…"

Draco grinned evilly. "Great then Granger, see you Saturday at 7:00 sharp. You will find me at Malfoy Headquarters south east of London. If you get lost, simply apparate and for Merlin's sake...look presentable for once."

Blank stare.

"Gooodbye, Granger. Out of my house."

* * *

This story is still in the works so reviews do help the process. Thanks 3 


	3. The scene where he must get hitched

**Wait! Haven't we heard this before?**

**Author's Note: **It's been awhile since I've updated, sincere apologies to anyone who cares.  
**Discliamer: **Characters courtesy of JK Rowling, plot courtesy of me and cliché plotlines.

* * *

Chapter 3: The scene where marrying a mudblood becomes predominant.

* * *

Hermione was pacing around Ginny's flat in London, and Ginny was trying to make the situation a bit brighter. "He's not that bad anymore, Hermione." 

"He was in _Knockturn Alley_ when I bumped into him."

"So what?" Ginny stated "You were in Knockturn Alley too."

"Evil thrives in Knockturn Alley. I was _accidentally _ there, which is an entirely different story."

"But, 'mione, Draco Malfoy is no longer a death eater."

"That's not the point."

"Then what is?"

Hermione snorted. "I'm not a ruddy attorney! I'm bound to fail and he knows it."

Ginny remained silent. It was the truth. Hermione may have memorized Hogwarts: A History, but she knew nothing about being an attorney. When Ginny's silence broke the only thing she could possibly think to say was "Hurry up, Hermione. It's almost 7."

She shot a stony glare which was met by Ginny's look of sympathy.

Hermione apparated and found herself in Draco Malfoy's personal office.

"It's about time, Granger."

"I'm early, you dolt." Hermione snapped. "What can I do for you, Malfoy?"

"File these." Malfoy handed her a sheet of paper "and bring me some Coffee."

Hermione snatched the papers from his hand.

"Your office is right next to mine on the right!" He hollered after her.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Azkaban, Lucius Malfoy dropped dead.

* * *

Blaise Zabini was sitting in the office next to Draco on the left, with his window open humming a tune while working on the latest – "OUCH!" he exclaimed, as a feathery beast impaled his shoulder. 

He looked down to find a bewildered owl clutching a piece of parchment not even addressed to him.

"Wrong window, mate." He told the half-concious owl. "You want Malfoy, he's one over."

The owl just looked at him. "It's okay. I"ll deliver the good news."

Zabini knocked on Draco's office door.

"What?" he snapped irritably.

Blaise opened the door, used to his co-worker's plesant greeting.

"Mail for you, Draco."

Draco eyed him. "You read it yet?"

"Tempted, but no."

Draco cautiously opened the mail.

_Dear Mister Malfoy,_

_The Minsitry of Magic is regretful to inform you that at approximatley ten fourteen yesterday evening your father passed away in Azkaban prison. His Will shall be sent to you shortly. The Ministry isn't really sorry for the loss of a Death Eater, but I suppose it's polite to say that we are._

_Sincerely, _

_Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic._

"OUCH!"

Blaise Zabini was impaled in the shoulder by yet another Ministry owl.

Draco's face was blank, as he picked up the owl and tore the parchment from it's beak.

It was, as the Ministry promised, a copy of his father's will. He skimmed it and his jaw made a bee-line for the floor. It wasn't nice to think ill of the dead but… his father was obviously insane.

"**MARRY A MUDBLOOD?"**

Blaise Zabini choked on his coffee. "Excuse me?"

"My father died in prison, his Will states I must marry a mudblood else the bloodline dies. And if the bloodline dies so does the Malfoy fortune and name. Why a Mudblood being wed to me does anything to benefit our _pureblood_ nature is beyond me…what the hell do I do, Zabini?"

"Marry a mudblood, so it seems."

"You're useless. I want another alternative."

At this very moment, Granger knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for his usual rude response. "I quit."

She looked at Draco and then at Blaise, and could obviously tell she had interupted a very awkward conversation. Blaise looked at Draco wondering what she was doing there. "Oh and, here's your coffee, Malfoy, you ridiculous excuse for life."

"Wait, wait, wait…" Malfoy started.

Hermione stopped, against her better judgement.

"You signed a contract, Granger."

"Did not!"

"Yes, you did…while you were hungover. I can't afford to explain now."

Hermione was livid, but Blaise pulled her aside.

"He just lost his father. It might be better suited if you discuss this matter in a day or two."

She wasn't pleased, but she understood the grave situation and left as awkwardly as she came.

It was silent for a few moments.

"Where am I going to find a Mudblood to marry before the age of 25?"

Zabini stared at the door.

"How am I going to mentally get past the act of actually doing this?"

Zabini looked at Granger's retreating form.

"I know the perfect candidate."

"Who?" Draco snarled.

Zabini just stared, and pointed at the door as if it were obvious.

"No, no, no. Out of the question and out of my office. Now!"

* * *

End of the chapter. I have no idea if this is even rightfully a parody anymore - it's kind of just trying to see how many over used plotlines I can squeeze into one story. I've noticed in a lot of Draco/Hermione post hogwarts, Blaise Zabini is always nice and Ginny is always Hermione's best friend and Draco is somehow not a shitty person anymore, just cynical. I've also noticed many stories where they are forced to marry - which is classic and usually doesn't make much sense (but I've read some good ones none the less.) Sorry if anything is out of character, I hardly feel I'm a skilled writer but I hope you're enjoying it none the less. Leave me some reviews with any cliche ideas you may have. Thanks, mates. **and thank you for the name correction for Blaise's last name, quillqueen... see, his name always reminds me of a zamboni machine in ice rinks so i have a natural tendency to say it similarly in fanfiction.**


	4. The scene which involves comfort

**Wait! Haven't we heard this before?**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **A new chapter has been updated and I have an idea for the next one after this…which is good, because the more ideas I have for progress the more I get done. And the more I get done, the more productive I feel.  
**THE DISCLAIMER: **If I owned these characters I'd be insanely wealthy. And if I were insanely wealthy, I'd have a lot better things to do with my time then write this fanfiction story about my own characters, mind you.

Chapter four: The scene which involves comfort.

Draco Malfoy paced the length of his bedroom several times that night, pondering his predicament. There should be no predicament…he should have burned the will and claimed he never received such parchment and then sued the Minsitry promptly after, for failure to send vital information. He turned to a portrait of a deceased family member.

"How am I going to get…_coerce_, rather, Granger to marry me?"

He paused.

The portrait gave him a quizical glance.

"On second thought, who even said it had to be Granger? There are plenty of other Muggle born witches out there who can A) identify a hairbrush and apply it correctly B) haven't yet managed to memorize Hogwarts: A History and never plan to… and most importantly C) didn't spent 7 years carefully visualizing my death in her head."

The portrait developed a distinct grimace on it's painted face. Draco continued.

"Just because I work with her does _not_ automatically make her marriage material. Infact, she technically said she quit. Zabini will be shocked! I will seduce a Mudblood and it will _not_ be Granger, because I am _not_ cliché!"

His anscestor shuddered in the picture frame after bearing witness to a plot that may destroy the family bloodline for centuries to come. As Draco left the room he could've sworn he heard the portrait mutter something quite like "_We're fucked_."

**Several miserable days later –**

Hermione was still employed in Malfoy's company. How he received the education to own and dominate his very own world-famous buisness (_what did they sell again?_) she would never bother to figure out. Malfoy's legal trouble apparently occurred when an old Death Eater contact came into play and soiled some of Malfoy's 'good' connections. People were suspcious of him and Malfoy was desperate to prove he had left that chunk of him behind. (_Who really cares anymore? Voldemort died._)

Hermione sat at her personal desk in her apartment, pissed off. She had opened a muggle book called "So, you want to be an Attorney?" and it didn't help. She made a mental note to herself to visit a magical library where she might find more prominent information on the kinds of cases attorneys in the magical realm deal with.

"You know what today is?" said Ginny, who apparated with a pop, her fiance by her side.

"Harry, Ginny…" Hermione said, indifferent to their prescence.

"Answer me, Hermione."

"Today is Sunday. I am working, or trying to figure out how. I'd appriciate if…"

"Hermione…it's Lucius Malfoy's funeral."

"Oh." She wasn't sure how to respond, and had no intention of asking Ginny how she came across such information.

"Ginny thinks we should go." Harry persisted, rubbing his fiance's arm tenderly.

"Harry," said Hermione reasonably "you're the one who _landed_ him in Azkaban to begin with. Are you sure you're going to be welcomed?"

"Er…"

"Look" said Ginny, "it's just a common courtesy, Blaise asked if you were coming and I told him I'd do my best to get you there. Just for a bit, okay?"

"Zabini?"

"Yes. Know another Blaise?" Ginny answered, impatiently. "Now find something black because…that's also common courtesy."

Hermione made her way into the other room muttering obscenities such as:

_Ihatedthatgoddamnmanmakingformylifesobloodymiserable._

_Heisadeatheaterthisdoesntmakeanysensetoattedseeingisupporttheorder!_

And_ oops!itseemsidonthaveanythingblacktowear… bugger._

Ginny shrugged and turned the rest of her attention to Harry.

**At the funeral, where no one showed up, afterall –**

Hermione didn't have anything black to wear, she settled for a pale grey dress-robe that wasn't too fancy after all. When she reached the grave yard she was greeted by the solemn faces of Mrs. Malfoy (_who was allowed out of St. Mungos for this special occasion_), Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy and the man hired to preform the ceremony.

If this wasn't an uncomfortable situation, it's impossible to say what was.

Harry, luckily opted to stay home after Ginny had convinced him Lucius' body wouldn't be the only one 6 feet under. Harry took the hint and Ginny stayed to accompany him.

Hermione nodded curtly to Blaise and found it hard to look Draco in the eyes. She completely ignored Mrs. Malfoy who was glaring at her as if her mere prescence were a curse. _Why am I here? Dash it all, I hate common courtesy, especially if I'm the only one who seems to be practicing it!_ As the ceremony went on, Mrs. Malfoy's attention wandered to the burial of her husband. Hermione studied Draco and watched him tremble a bit as the hired official lay the coffin into the soft earth. Malfoy stood away from his mother and Blaise, and although Hermione couldn't see his face she could imagine his sadness and it made her a bit uneasy.

Stupidly, she walked up to him. "Uh, hello."

_That wasn't very well-spoken_, Hermione unconciously scolded herself.

He replied with short acknowledgement. "Granger."

"I'm…sorry."

"For showing up?"

"No! I'm trying to comfort you, for Merlin's sake. _I'm sorry for your loss_."

"Oh. Comfort...right."

"Yeah."

Silence.

Hermione spoke again. "That comforting thing didn't go over too well, did it?"

"No." replied Draco, honestly.

She nodded, shocked they came to a mutual agreement and departed quite quickly.

**Thanks to anyone who plans on reviewing! **I hope you carry through with your plans. I'm open to suggestions and ideas because I like to please you. If you're going to be the ones reading it you might as well have a say in what you read, no?** Hope to see you for chapter five! **


	5. The scene with tight leather trousers

**Wait! Haven't we heard this before?**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: **Sorry it's been awhile…college started, I developed a love life (foreign concept, believe me) and it's just been unfavorable conditions for updating. But it's nice to be back…so, Hello.  
**DISCLAIMER: **There would be no sense in taking credit for these characters. The whole entire world knows otherwise.

Chapter five: The scene with tight leather trousers.

After Hermione Granger's catastrophic funeral appearance, she decided to maintain a low profile. Coming in contact with Draco Malfoy was the last thing on her agenda and only happened when absolutely necessary. Being employed by him ensured that this would at least happen twice a day.

Malfoy knocked.

Malfoy knocked again because Malfoy is impatient.

"Come in."

---

He strode in, silent and confident as he dropped a stack of papers off, turned on his heel and left the room. Draco then began questioning his once excellent decision making skills. Hiring Hermione Granger was a stupid, stupid decision. I mean, sure…he wasn't even sure what Malfoy Inc and Stuff produced, sold or advertised either…but if he were to hire somebody he should've at least hired an actual attorney.

Whatever. Granger is highly capable.

And it's not like he could fire her anyway if he eventually decided to force her into wedlock after all. Serving a woman with unemployment papers just doesn't scream "seduction" under any circumstance. No matter which way he looked at it, there was not a chance to remedy this situation. He would just go back to his office and do whatever the Head of Malfoy Inc. and Stuff would presumably do.

Maybe he'd fiddle with a stapler or something.

Blaise fortunately interrupted his unproductiveness as he opened and bounded through the door like Kramer from Seinfeld (not that Draco would ever watch this sitcom or anything).

"We're going out tonight."

"It's Monday, Zabini. Who goes out on a Monday?"

Zabini's enthusiasm faded, but remained intact. "Pureblood Wizards compelled to find not so pureblooded wives that aren't Granger?"

"Point made."

"It's Ladies Night at the Leaky Cauldron." Blaise offered.

"No. I think not." Draco insisted. "That place is sleazy."

"Beggars can't be choosers; it's either ladies' night or Granger."

---

Around ten that night Draco Malfoy found himself in _tight leather pants_ and an equally flattering shirt. He was standing with Blaise who was actually dressed like a respectable Wizard, and they were outside of the Leaky Cauldron. He never predicted the Leaky Cauldron to be the kind of place to have "Ladies Night" but he wasn't about the question the likelihood of it.

He didn't care. He would find a decent looking witch, seduce her, and propose…the end.

Blaise entered first, glancing at Draco's pants as he passed.

"I can't believe you wore those. You look absurd. Why did you wear those?"

Draco snarled. "What? You don't like these?"

"You look like a fag."

Draco pushed his way past Zabini completely ignoring the comment about his sexuality. He had great sexual prowess, a certain prowess that Zabini would never possess or appreciate. Zabini would simply watch in envy…Draco Malfoy was going to find a suitor, and the leather pants were going to help him seal the deal.

It worked in other fanfictions. This would certainly not be the exception.

Draco walked to the bar with an air of confidence and ordered Firewhisky. He eyed the place…there were some witches, but none to his standard. They were relatively poorer class witches. Kind of like Weasley. He considered just letting the family name go to waste. His father was mad. This whole situation was mad.

He drank his Firewhisky quickly. Blaise took his time.

Malfoy ordered another. And another. This was one of those tasks he would rather _not_ remember in the morning. Blaise elbowed him.

"Over there."

Draco looked about the crowded establishment. "Where, you imbecile?"

"There. Blonde witch by the piano." He pointed the direction by giving a subtle nod.

Draco looked over and surprisingly found the witch wasn't as repulsive as he would be inclined to assume. She would need work, of course. But in comparison to the other females in the Leaky Cauldron this blonde was first rate. "Alright."

Without further ado, Draco Malfoy approached the witch.

---

Hermione yelped in surprise when Lavender Brown's face appeared in her fireplace. Lavender had never been a close friend, per say, but a friend nonetheless. Hermione was still a little surprised and Lavender was a little hysterical.

"Lavender?"

"SEAMUS IS CHEATING ON ME!!"

"What?" Hermione said, with concern. "How do you know?"

"I don't. But he's out again…_on a Monday!_"

"Who goes out on a Monday?" Hermione said, musing to herself.

"_HE DOES! Him and that secretary from the office!!!"_

At this point Hermione realized anything she was going to say was going to make Lavender all the more hysterical. She tried to comfort her for a little while.

"Come with me, 'mione. I think I know where he is. I need to catch him."

"But…"

"What? Do you have something _better_ to be doing?"

Hermione thought about this. "No, actually I don't."

"Good, apparate to my flat in about…two minutes?"

---

Draco Malfoy was now at the blonde's side, he smirked at her. Contrary to popular belief, Draco had never picked up a girl at a bar before. He never had the need or desire to.

_Women_ came to _him_. What was he supposed to say?

He cleared his throat to announce his prescience. The witch turned around and gave him a bemused smile after noticing his unique attire. "Nice pants."

Draco could have smiled… if he wasn't Draco, that is. He pretended not to notice.

"Oh?" He smirked. "I know."

"You come here often?" she asked.

_Of course not. Do I look like the kind of scum that often frequents this low life plebian establishment? _Draco thought in disgust. "No, no…my friend does though." He motioned to Blaise.

"I see."

Draco was about to say something incredibly suave and charming when he was interrupted by a familiar Irish accent.

"Malfoy?" he said, apparently confused.

He turned around to face Seamus Finnegan. This night could probably not get any more uncomfortable.

"Finnegan." Draco replied dryly. "Pleasure to see you here."

Finnegan was still confused. "Were you just trying to pick up my date?"

That was an awkward statement. He received a not so intimidating glare from the former Gryffindor.

Draco then evaluated his options, turned to the blonde. "I better get going. Your boyfriend here seems intimidated by our simple conversation. It has been a pleasure meeting you."

_Back to the bar. Back to square one._

As he headed back to his respective barstool next to Blaise, he realized he was about to eat his words. Remember when he thought the night couldn't possibly be any more uncomfortable?

Well, he just realized it was about to get worse.

---

Hermione was being dragged by an enraged Lavender Brown through a crowded pub. This was the second pub they had tried, although this time Lavender was sure he was here. A former acquaintance said he saw Seamus enter the Leaky Cauldron.

Lavender was irrational. Her hysterics simply turned to anger and Hermione was starting to think her consent to accompany Lavender was nothing but a suicide mission. That was indefinitely confirmed when she spotted Seamus and a blonde witch in the back corner. That was, if possible, further confirmed when she spotted Draco Malfoy leaving said back corner…wearing a pair of extremely tight leather trousers.

Hermione suppressed a giggle, which was glared upon by Lavender.

"But look…the pants..." Hermione tried to get her friend to look.

Lavender did not look, she instead let go of Hermione's arm and stormed over to the back corner of the pub to break up the illicit affair. Still in shock, Hermione stood there wishing she never bothered to come out at all.

"Granger!" Draco said, absentmindedly and oddly enthusiastic.

_Oh gods. _"Greetings, Malfoy."

"Granger." He said again, this time with no enthusiasm. "Ladies' night?"

He raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Shut up. Don't ask." She looked at his leather clad legs again and grimaced.

"Aren't you curious to know why I'm here?"

"No." Hermione replied honestly. "I am curious, however, to know why you're dressed like John Travolta."

"Who?"

"Your pants, Malfoy." Hermione sighed. "You look like a fag."

In the background, Hermione distinctly heard Lavender through her fit of hysterics and Seamus' stifled apologies. The blonde just looked confused. Malfoy looked borderline insulted at Hermione's comment but Hermione didn't care. This was such a waste of her Monday evening.

"Honestly, what were you thinking when you got dressed?"

"Granger, at least I still look attractive. Now that's something you cannot say for yourself. If you don't mind, I've had one hell of a wasted night. I am going to collect Zabini and apparate back to my quarters. Goodnight."

"Right. See you tomorrow."

She brushed past him, accidentally touching against his side as she went by. A chill ran up her spine, but she dismissed it. It's a drafty pub, chills happen. She pushed past a few more people just in time to stop Lavender from unleashing her wrath on the blonde haired witch.

"Enough, Lavender. Enough!"

Seamus offered to take his hysterical girlfriend home, and Hermione collapsed on a stool for a brief moment before collecting herself and apparating back. Coming in contact with Draco Malfoy was always the last thing on her agenda and only seemed to happen when it was most inconvenient. Especially when leather pants were involved…tight leather pants…really tight, form fitting leather pants…_whoa._

-----

**Author's note:** I've been out of touch with fanfiction for awhile so if anything's out of character you can let me know. If you have any suggestions for clichés in the future please leave them in a review. I may not use them right away, but I usually keep them for future chapters. I had fun updating and hope to be back with more updates in the near future. **Reviews encouraged because they keep me going.**


	6. The scene with jealousy, potion & lust

**Wait! Haven't we heard this before?**

**AUTHOR'SNOTE:** It's been a very long while and it's ultimatley my fault because I've been partying too much and being far too distracted. However, I am back for another chapter. I got this idea awhile ago from a review and adapted it to fit the story. I've incorperated the cliches of love trianges and experimentation with potions.

**THEDISCLAIMER: **Seriously; is the prescence of a disclaimer not self explanitory?

Chapter six: The scene with jealousy, potion & lust.

Incase anyone in the wizarding world missed the memo, nemises Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter became, in a way, friends after the war. They didn't share intimate details about their past or anything…but occasionally they split some floo powder to the pool hall to talk about manly things, like Quiddich. Incase anyone in the wizarding world, or the cliché Harry Potter Fanfiction world missed the other memo…Harry also harbors a secret flame for Hermione. This would ultimately unfold tonight, at a small pub in Diagon Alley, and chaos would probably ensue. Because you see, although Ron was an imbecile with Hermione and blew it, he still wants to shag her. And Ginny? Well she knows of Harry's affections and doesn't approve because she IS MARRIED TO THE BLOODY GIT. Granted, Harry loves Ginny very much. But…well, who can resist the drama?

It's all a bit melodramatic.

**Friday night, Zabini's humble abode –**

Zabini was putting on his cloak when greeted by a ash-clad Draco Malfoy, stumbling out of the fireplace. He had several red, irritated burn marks along his neck and arms. "What in the name of Salazar Slytherin is wrong with your bloody floo network?"

Blaise looked up, appalled and slightly concerned. "I told you to fly here. Or Apparate. That fireplace seems to be cursed or something lately."

Draco did not say anything. He grumbled something incoherent and excused himself to the bathroom. Seconds later there was another yelp heard from the fireplace, followed by two pops, from the genuises who apparated. In Zabini's kitchen now stood Harry Potter, Marcus Flint, and Ronald Weasley (also burnt and ashed).

They adjourned to the small pub where drama would soon unfold, shortly after.

**Small pub –**

Too many middle aged wizards drowning their problems with whisky.

Left within five minutes.

**Who cares where, dialouge ensues –**

**Draco, quiety to Blaise**: I need to find a worthy advocate of the Malfoy fortune and name. I turn 25 soon and I'm not doing well at getting married at ALL.

**Blaise to Draco, not as quietly:** I don't see what's wrong with Granger. If you're hanging out with Potter surely you can handle Granger. It's worse and far more out of character to associate with Potter, if you ask me. Plus, Granger has nice legs. Lovely smile…wit…

**Draco, to Blaise, quite insulted:** You disgust me.

**Blaise, not so subtley replies to Draco:** Because you know it's true.

**Ron, after overhearing turns to Harry: **Mate, they're talking about marrying Hermione. TO MALFOY. Hermione should be mine. I should tell her I'm sorry. Harry, should I tell her I'm sorry…Harry? Hello, can you hear me?

**Harry, bewildered: **…

**Ron, getting annoyed: **MATE? HELLO!?

**Harry, feeling jealous replies: **What? Oh. That's absurd. I won't allow it!

Harry is secretly jealous (and hating himself for it because he's married) at this point and Ron is blantantly jealous. They bid goodbye to Malfoy, Blaise and Flint with some silly excuse about Ginny needing them back at home, and meanwhile come up with a sinister plan to make sure Malfoy and Hermione hate each other. I mean, they didn't think Hermione would loose all her senses, but…well, you never know. Friends don't let friends marry Malfoy's --- regardless of how much said Malfoy has changed.

They went back to Harry and Ginny's flat and pulled out a Potion's book.

**After a couple hours –**

Harry was wishing he still had access to his 6th year "Half Blood Prince" Potions book. He and Ron were struggling to properly brew the potion and if he didn't hurry Ginny would be home and know they were both up to no good. Harry would much rather see Hermione with Ron than with Malfoy. (For shame, Harry. A HG/RW shipper? I'm appalled.)

Finally, the concoction was complete. The next dilemma for this 'Immidiate Repulsion Potion' as Ron affectionately called it, was to somehow slip it in to both of their drinks. Ron decided it would be a great idea to visit Hermione at the office tomorrow. He was feeling relatively confident about his potion-making skills. Sure – the concoction didn't "fizz"… but how off could it be? Harry insisted on remaking it, but was silenced by Ginny apparating home.

Tomorrow…the plan would be put to action. Harry and Ron both went to sleep with a devilish smile. Malfoy wouldn't stand a chance.

**Malfoy Incorperated and Stuff.**

It was another busy day at the workplace. Wizards and witches were bustling around and few stopped to look at the strange red-head who was making his way into the Company kitchen. There was a pot of wand-brewed coffee lying around, and Hermione was making her way towards it with a bagel.

"RON! What a plesant surprise!"

He clutched the vials of potion under his cloak and gave a hearty smile. "'Ello Hermione!"

"Stop by to visit?"

"Kind of. I wanted to talk to you about a surprise party for Ginny." Ron said… stuttering unnoticably to anyone but himself.

"Oh?" Hermione began to pour herself a cup of Coffee and then pour another.

"Yeah. Two cups of coffee?" he questioned.

Hermione scowled. "One's Malfoy's."

_Perfect. _"Yeah. Anyway. About the party. Harry was wondering when you'd be free to help."

"Hang on a sec. I'll grab my planner from the office."

Ron didn't waste another second. He poured one vial into Malfoy's and one into Hermione's.

Damn. Did it have to be so strategically convienient to the plot? Hermione returned with a planner and started talking to him about the days she was free. Ron picked one randomly and said it sounded like a swell idea. He looked longingly at Hermione whilst making small talk – eventually apparating back to Harry's flat to tell the good news.

**Malfoy's high & mighty office –**

**Malfoy, irritated and hot, snaps: ** Coffee!

**Granger: **Yeah. Got any new law suits?

**Malfoy, who indeed had another law suit: ** Yes.

There is a brief exchange of files and coffee and then Draco continues to be hot and irritated and Hermione goes back to her office to work. Little do they know what lies in store for them in just a cup of coffee.

**Five minutes later.**

Draco knocks on Hermione's office door. "Come in!"

**Draco to Hermione, with a sense of sexual desire: ** Hello, Granger.

**Hermione, feeling all of a sudden aroused: ** Hello, Malfoy.

**Draco: **Don't be rude, call me Draco.

**Hermione, with no intention to do that: **Uh, no. What do you _want_ Malfoy?

**Draco: **I think there was something queer about my coffee… _but_ I seem to want _you_.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: Okay --- that's been all for chapter six. I decided I really like the potion cliches because they're a good excuse for them to fall for each other. I've seen a lot of them done so I decided to include it in my "Wait? Haven't We Heard this before? story…because I know I definitely have. Keep me posted with more cliché ideas for the future & lemme know what you think. I know the story is kind of retarded. REVIEW GOAL: **_25_**.  


	7. The scene in which they kiss too soon

**Wait! Haven't we heard this before?**

**AUTHOR'S APOLOGIES:** Major story-neglect going on. Very sorry. I've been working my tush off at Wendy's – haha, so, yeah, here we go… chapter seven.  
**DIS CLAIM IT: **I disclaim owning a) these characters b) any of the following overused plot cliches.

Chapter seven: The scene in which they kiss too soon.

Hermione was on lunch break with a turkey sandwich and a glass of water. Draco Malfoy was lurking in the hallways, sauntering down to the lunch room to grab his thermos of tomato soup. Hermione found that she had been noticing things about Draco. These were foreign, forbidden things – like how he smelled, smirked and snickered. His newfound irresistibility bothered her to extents she was not ready to explore.

Draco Malfoy was noticing similar and had several wet dreams to thank for the matter. You never really grow too old for these. He woke up in cold sweats from his mid-work nap; glanced in the crack of her door when he passed by her office, found himself curious about the colour of her panties, found himself wondering about who she actually was as a person.

The latter of the contemplations scared him the most; considering his Corporation was practically a sausage fest – any thought of panties were generally welcomed.

"Get your arse over here, Malfoy" she would holler, out the hall and into the other room.

"My arse? What business do you have with my arse?" he would snip, but come over none the less, just to feel the strange sexual tension. The tension ironically brewed by an incorrectly spiked cup of decaf coffee.

Blaise Zabini began to notice both of their strange behaviors. He didn't know what started it, but he planned to take advantage. Lucius' will promised the Zabini name a share in Malfoy inheritance if the name were to carry on. Draco Malfoy needed to get hitched. Opportunity called and Zabini answered happily.

It was decided that he'd try to get inside help. He was going to hook them up, but he'd need a little help from a fiery Weasley acquaintance…and a couple of Gringotts Goblins.

Meanwhile Ron Weasley and Harry Potter were both set on getting lucky with their potion. Sadly, it was about to not only rain, but downpour on their parade.

- - -

Zabini and female Weasley were in Gringotts Bank, conversing with a couple of Goblins. Zabini's brilliant plan happened to involve sending them down to the vault to get money and bribing a goblin to accidentally lock them in for a few minutes.

He had a sneaking suspicion that they wouldn't be able to handle the tension.

After a few minutes of talking to the Goblins, he and Ginny shook their hands and departed to Diagon Alley to grab a celebratory Butterbeer. Ginny Weasley was finding Zabini extremely attractive.

Oh, Bugger.

- - -

Malfoy knocked on Hermione's office door, instead of just peering in. He cleared his throat and spoke professionally.

"Here at Malfoy Headquarters we value our profit very much. All new employees are supposed to be equipped with financial information regarding our procedures. You know, how we go about handling money. Since you are a personal attorney and secretary, it is necessary you know some of the major facts…Zabini has left me to take care of training you in this matter, Granger."

Granger just looked at him blankly, and chuckled under her breath "Um, rephrase?"

"We're going to Gringotts to deposit money. Blaise would have accompanied you but he has to move into his new place."

"That's all you had to say, Malfoy."

"Right." He said, feeling a bit sheepish.

"To Gringotts!" Hermione said, triumphantly.

"Your enthusiasm excites me." His tone was dry and cynical, but he was dead serious.

She'd never know it.

_Pop. Pop._ They apparated.

- - -

At Gringotts, Ginny was there sporting a black wig, standing near the designated Goblin. She pretended to be withdrawing money as she signaled the Goblin. Said Goblin approached Draco and Hermione and led them into an area of vaults. They would be taken to theirs. Ginny watched this act with a mischievous glint in her eye. It was a real shame Blaise could not be here. Not that she wanted him to be here...he was just a real Draco/Hermione shipper. He would have enjoyed watching the fruits of his labour grow. She definitely didn't want to see him. She had Harry.

- - -

The Goblin closed the Vault and Draco immediately turned to Hermione and told her to start searching for the sickles in the briefcase Blaise had left them.

Blaise had purposely filled the suitcase with only Knuts and Galleons, creating a deliciously frustrating environment. He left on the instructions that they needed to deposit a certain amount of sickles and knuts, so that they could exchange them for galleons. It was a simple task, Hermione, as attorney would need to become familiar with Headquarters vaults.

"Malfoy, what are you talking about? There are no sickles."

"There are. Look harder!"

"Ugh." She dug through the briefcase, clearly frustrated.

"Harder, Granger!"

"Harder, Malfoy? How hard could it possibly be, honestly"

Malfoy came closer; she smelt the smell she only recently starting adoring. She squirmed a bit, and her skin felt hot. "Give me."

Hermione sprung back in surprise. "Give you what?"

"The sickles. The briefcase. One or the other. It's unbearably hot in here; just give me something that'll get us out. ."

"It's not hot in here, it's just you." Hermione said sarcastically with a mock wink.

"Clever. But true. Now give me the briefcase."

Hermione resisted, partly because she wanted to do the job she came to do and partly because she knew it was part of the game. "I can handle it, Malfoy. Go do whatever else you corporate bigwigs need to do. I can handle this."

"Can you?" he asked curiously. At this point he was so close to her face their skin was almost touching. "Can you handle it, _Hermione?"_

She felt that chill creep up her spine, and this time, she couldn't blame a drafty pub. "Yes, _Draco,_ I can handle it. I can handle it better than you could ever imagine."

It was hard to tell who kissed who first because next thing Hermione's body was pressed against the metal vault; Draco's perfect hair was directionally confused. His hand caressed her thighs and a moan of delight would occasionally escape their already occupied lips.

And at random intervals, if listening close enough you could hear a chuckle from the outside of the vault.

Ginny kicked the Goblin and reminded him that this wasn't supposed to be funny, and he was supposed to remain silent.

* * *

**NOTE OF ALL THAT MAY BE AUTHOR'S:** Alright. Haha, so this one was a bit random. Clichés for future chapters are really much appreciated. I tried to make do with the "kissing too soon" cliché crossed over with the potion one – and some Ginny/Blaise potentials. I'm not really sure where to go after this so any clichés you have in mind will be of great help/humour.

**REVIEW GOAL:** 25. (Still). SIGH. Help, por favor!


	8. The scene with intentionally bad smut

**Wait! Haven't We Heard This Before?**

**Author's Note**: I'll have to up the rating. The smut isn't very detailed at all... in half, it's only mocking smut stories. Ok, so that's pretty much it's only purpose. It's not to get anyone off or anything. I don't care about your sexual gratification. I find it hard to write fantasies down, even if they're involving fictional people. It never sounds as hot on paper. But none the less, I'm upping the rating just incase someone thinks it wise to report me (not wise, I assure you).

**Cliches incorporated**: Sex too soon, being "punished", Draco being a sex god, using the word Mudblood while doing the deed.

**Disclaimer:** JK Rowling stole my original characters and became extremely wealthy off them. It's such a travesty! I might sue.

**Chapter 8: The scene with intentionally bad smut.**

Draco and Hermione were unsure what to do after their horrible display in the Gringott's Vault, bodies pressed up against stacks of sickles...sweaty, clammy, hot for each other. The only thing that seemed natural would be to engage in an intentionally horrible smut scene the next day.

Hermione, trying to distract herself, had buried herself in her work for the entire night. Meaning she stayed really late. Meaning Draco stayed really late, as well, trying to distract himself. Of course, both are pathetic excuses to create a potential sexual encounter. There should at least be a custodian still there for the sake of reality.

Okay, so there's also a custodian chilling somewhere.

"All work and no play, Granger" he said, entering her office with a cup of coffee [not spiked this time.

She chuckled, and looked back down at her papers, which was really just The Daily Prophet crossword puzzle. "I wouldn't be so sure about that one."

"Oh, you... naughty minx..."

"What is that?" Hermione said, perplexed.

Draco smirked "What is what?"

"A minx... is it a creature? Furry?"

"I don't know." He snapped, angry she was questioning the integrity of his flattery.

"No, seriously, what is it?"

Draco was getting annoyed. " It's a..." He sighed in bitter defeat as he eyed her desk. "Hey, is that a crossword puzzle?"

"Yes."

"You do know that's not what I had you working on. Right? That's NOT the Benson project!"

In reality, the Benson project would never be mentioned again and probably doesn't actually exist. Draco was angry. Draco was also turned on by his anger and her timid reaction to it. Granted, Hermione Granger was not timid. Who gives a rat's arse?

"I'll make you pay, Granger. I'll punish you, stupid bitch..."

Hermione sat back down. "That'll have to wait. I just need to get four across. You don't by chance know the 8th Minster of Magic, do you?"

"You're going to pay, Granger, for that smart mouth of yours."

"Fine, fucking git, take my wallet." She tossed her wallet on the desk, carelessly and annoyed. "I have a few knuts, if you really want my money..."

Draco was completely uninterested in her money and made it very clear when she felt his weight straddling her on the chair, his lips pressed to hers and his cock growing through his overly expensive fabric. "GETTTTOFF!" She screamed into his kiss.

He did, but only to get naked. And he looked marvelous.

"Like what you see, Mudblood?"

"What? Do you say that in every fanfiction?"

"Yes, it's protocol. He grabbed her wand and held it from her grasp. "You won't be needing this, Mudblood." She surprised him, by furiously kissing him back, being turned on herself. He squeezed her ass with his hand and unzipped her bottoms with the other. "I'm going to fuck you like there's no tomorrow." He said, roughly in her ear.

"Not if I can help it." She threw him off her and he landed on his ass on the floor.

"I'm going to fuck _you_ like there's no tomorrow" she said, surprised by her own lack of morals.

He was stark naked, and she was only in a robe minus the panties. Draco had never been more turned on in his life. She mounted him and lingered for a minute above him before he threw her off him and she landed on the dirty office floor. "Sorry, love. It's just not how I roll."

She gave him a perplexed look. "Not how you roll? What are you? An American high- schooler? Are you going to drop it like it's hot next?"

With that said, and with no answer given, his throbbing manhood/hot love rod/one eyed trouser snake entered her. "Now, let's get that robe off, Granger." He said, roughly, as he started tearing the not as expensive as he was wearing fabric.

All of a sudden, in the midst of their uncharacteristic nudity, a door opens. The office door in particular. And a gruff voice yelps in surprise. "Sorry, sorry, sorry...I just was collecting the trash."

Malfoy Inc. Custodian stood before them, in all his janitorial glory. "Care to join, sir?" Hermione asked.

He willingly obliged, and in Hermione's small office, Draco and Hermione had a threesome with the Custodian... that would never again be talked about for the rest of their lives.

- - - - -

The next day, I suppose there was tomorrow after all. The three of them woke up, passed out on the office floor.

The custodian was fired, Draco was feeling funny and Hermione was insanely sore.

"Good morning, Mudblood, Good morning." He said, a mix between taunting and affectionate.

"Speak for yourself. I feel rottenly sore." Her voice had a bit of an edge to it.

Draco smirked proudly.

"Don't smirk. I was talking about the Custodian. I haven't had a lay like that in forever."

Draco was defeated and developed what was close to a Malfoy-pout.

Hermione smiled, for once, genuinely at him. "He was lousy. No worries."

"Wasn't worried. I still hate you, though."

"Yes." Hermione sighed. "I hate you too." Although, she was suddenly beginning to doubt it. Of course, this would be confirmed when he would open up to her and become tormented, changed and suicidal. Or something along those lines.

"I'm apparating home. Clean this mess up. Relatively soon. As in... NOW."

_POP._

* * *

**Author's note:** I've been up all night. So this is a product of insomnia. Which is probably why it's so unbelievably wretched. I could really use some fresh ideas though. So, if you've got any, leave 'em. And if you don't, you can still comment and say hi. It's all good. 


	9. The scene with emo tendencies

**Wait! Haven't we heard this before?**

**AUTHERZ NOAT: **It's been awhile... adopting crappy spelling in the top two blurbs. Anyway, I've tried to compile some more clichés for you. Hopefully you enjoy, kinda short it is. **DISCLAYMUR: **I own a lot of things, most just have nothing to do with this story... like the characters, or the clichéd plotlines. Same deal as always.

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat in a dark room, not entirely dark, but dark enough to get his point across. His life was lonely, his life consisted of work and only such. Malfoy Inc. & Stuff was thriving and Draco Malfoy should be happier with himself. His father's death tormented him at times. Hermione drove him mad. Narcissa was a crazy old bat, and Zabini had his heart set on marrying Hermione and Draco, who for the record, drove him mad.

"CRUCIO!" he said, pointing the wand at himself.

Hermione Granger walked into the small office, not entirely dark, but dark enough to be considered questionably "emo." After hearing an unforgivable curse shouted rather loudly in the office, sort of near Draco's doorway, she thought it best to check up on her boss. The sight was ghastly: blonde hair tumbling messily as he squirmed in ungraceful fashion, wand pointed at his chest, pale white skin even whiter than usual. "What the hell are you doing, Malfoy? Are you under the imperious curse? You can go to Azkaban for using the unforgivable curses! Draco, I mean, Malfoy... answer me!"

Draco looked up at her, not helplessly, but confused. He resumed character quickly and made a snide rebuttal. "I'm not under the imperious curse. Thank you but no thank you."

"You know" said Hermione, kneeling next to his fallen form "when most normal, emotionally tortured people want to self harm, they just use a razor."

"- or listen to Panic! at the Disco." Draco added.

"Yes. Did you hear? They removed the exclamation point from their name. Now it's just Panic at the Disco; with a lot less emphasis on the _panic_."

"Granger, shut up and leave. As you can see, I've just cursed myself. I am in considerable pain and you're certainly no means of alleviating it."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that. Seeing you vulnerable has made me reconsider your birth given jackass status, in fact, your crippled state of mentality has made you seem, well, hot. So, how about a nice blow job?"

Draco picked himself off the tile floor and turned on the light to examine if this were really Granger, and if she was actually serious. "Are you actually serious?"

"Oh yes." Hermione grabbed his hand and dragged him to the bathroom.

* * *

"In the name of Merlin; what the hell was that all about?" Hermione said, as she woke up, frazzled. Her papers scattered everywhere. The office was quiet. Sounds of wizards and witches on the street resonated below her, co-workers rushed around with coffee cups and an earful of office gossip. Steve Carell was there, too.

Hermione of late, was prone to having strange dreams. What to make of this one, she did not know. Surely Draco would have better musical taste, not that Panic at the Disco is horrendous. Since the threesome with the custodian (now fired and working at the Wiz Burger, home of the Wiz Burger...) Draco and Hermione have avoided each other, despite their urges to, well, not avoid each other.

"Mione!" said a familiar voice. "I came to visit you at work, whoa, what'd you do to this place?"

"Fell asleep." Hermione didn't know what to make of Ron recently. It seemed as if he were trying to get with her, trying to rekindle the flame. Hermione would have none of it.

"With?" Ron prodded, but failed.

"Nobody. Grow up, Ron, come on, let's grab some lunch in the cafeteria. I noted Steve Carell was by the vending machines. We should stop by."

* * *

**AUTHERZ NOAT 2: **cliches attempted: hurt/comfort/emo/tortured and hot. That's about it. But I couldn't incorporate the emo-draco without totally fucking up the story, because it would defy his current character. Hence dream.

But, I have to go. So ... the end(for now)


	10. the company ball, part one

**Wait! Haven't We Heard This Before?**

The Company Ball, Part I

* * *

**Author's note:** I updated rather quickly. I discovered a new cliche I haven't yet touched upon... there is ALWAYS a ball of sorts. So, here's part I of the company ball!

**Disclaimer: **There is no remote possibility of owning these characters. None. 0. Savvy?

* * *

Hermione Granger was having lunch with Ginny, who seemed more recently distraught. Her relationship with Harry was on the rocks and Ginny wouldn't confess why.

"Who am I going to tell?" Hermione insisted, "you are my best friend, what is going on with you recently? You're positively nutty."

"You'll tell Malfoy." Ginny added in retort.

"Stop that. I tell that insufferable prick nothing other than business."

As if on cue, a very large falcon entered the cafe when the door opened and a group of witches left. The falcon soared over to Hermione's table, sending the salt shakers to the floor. "A bird of prey" Ginny said, staring at the bird in awe.

"Malfoy is a show off. This species is endangered."

Hermione eyed the note, ripped apart the seal and dissected it's beautifully scripted calligraphy.

_Granger,_

_Zabini has recently informed me that next Saturday there will be a company ball. It is formal. You need to dress up, you need to be there, and it is of utmost importance. So is being at the office in approximately thirty minutes. Serious, Granger, I know it's your day off and you're probably at some shitty cafe with girl Weasel, but thirty minutes, or else._

_D. Malfoy_

"I think he's stalking me." Hermione said, baffled, passing the message to Ginny.

"I think he's going to ask you to this company ball."

* * *

**Thirty one minutes later.**

"One minute late, undoubtedly intentional." Draco said, as he surveyed his disgruntled co-worker. She wore a light yellow sundress, her hair was pulled back half way, her skin was pale from lack of exposure and her eyes were soft and tired. She was not happy to see him. Draco felt a pit forming in his stomach; the Company Ball hadn't left his mind since Zabini revealed the cursed news. Draco hated everything about balls – the false flattery, the over the top unfailingly corny decorations, the pressure to concoct some sort of date to maintain social standing.

He certainly couldn't ask Granger. What an uproar that would cause!

"Suit yourself, Malfoy. You better have a good reason for summoning me."

"I do." Draco smirked, a traditional Malfoy smirk. "I need a date."

Hermione snorted. But Draco continued before she could speak. "as I owled you -

"Falconed, you mean. You sent a falcon, not an owl."

Draco ignored this. "as I _informed _you, there is a Malfoy Inc. ball coming up Saturday night. I need three things from you: 1) find yourself a suitable gown. 2) find _me_ a suitable date. 3) be there at approximately 8:00 with both 1 & 2."

Granger stared at him, stupidly, her expression blank and disappointed. "You want me to find you a date? Really Malfoy? Me? Find you a date? You lazy git, to think that I would obey such a ludicrous..." Granger developed what looked like a trademark Malfoy smirk. "As you wish, Malfoy."

Malfoy would have been impressed if it didn't start to worry him so much. He remained collected, however. "Saturday. 8:00. No rubbish, Granger."

Granger smiled and apparated and Draco shrugged off the encounter. "Strange woman, that Granger, very strange."

* * *

It was Thursday night. Hermione sought help from Lavender Brown (who had recently repaired her relationship with Seamus after extensive couples therapy). Lavender had a knack for fashion.

"Good to see you, love!" Lavender said, embracing Hermione in a tight grasp. Hermione struggled to break free.

"It's great to see you, too." The women entered a new gown shop in Diagon Alley; Gretchens' Glamorous Gowns, famous for gorgeous dresses and great use of alliteration. "I need to look, um, sexy."

Hermione had to personally evaluate this remark. Hermione was going out of her way to look sexy for Malfoy. But of course, she consoled herself, it was all part of the plan. Draco had never seen her look "sexy" – Hermione was ready to tread these waters at risk of personally humiliating her boss.

"Why so sexy?" Lavender asked.

"This company ball."

"Company? As in Malfoy's company? Oh, Hermione, you desperate girl."

Hermione sighed, not bothering to explain to Lavender. "Less psycho-analysis, more shopping." Lavender rolled her eyes but proceeded to peruse the aisles none the less. "How about this?" Hermione held up a skinny black dress.

"Everybody has a skinny black dress. No one will look twice." Lavender insisted, as she set her eyes on a beautiful navy gown. Lavender insisted Hermione try it on. The back laced up like a corset, showing a questionable amount of cleavage. It branched out into a flowing floor sweeping layer – with intricate lace at the very bottom.

"What do you think, Lav?" Lavender didn't say a word. "It's too much isn't it? Oh I thought it would be too much."

"Quite contrary, love, you'll stun him silly."

Hermione shot Lavender an exasperated look. "That's not my intention."

None the less, Hermione paid for the dress with help from her latest paycheck. The next part of her scheme was what she looked forward to most. Lavender chose not to accompany her, as she and Seamus were planning an intimate night.

* * *

Striding confidently, Hermione walked into a bar on the outskirts of Diagon; Hancocks' Pub. Two men in the entranceway checked her ID, and she made her way towards the bar shielding glances from the other patrons. "Firewhisky, please."

The barkeep handed her a firewhisky, a fine specimen of a human, she thought, eyeing the emerald green eyes and curly brown hair. She drank her firewhisky, and gave the bartender another once-over. Five minutes later, the bartender took her empty glass; "Another firewhisky?"

"Yes, please." Hermione sipped gracefully. "Hey," she looked at the employees' name tag "Sammy, have you ever heard of a Draco Malfoy?" she kept her voice low.

"Vaguely, I've heard good things, why do you ask?"

"He needs a date, and you, my dear, seem to be his type."

* * *

Saturday rolled around. The Company Ball was held in honor of a successful merge with Greg Goyle Industries (no one knows what they sell either, coincidentally).

The interior was Slytherin colors, mainly emerald, with touches of silver, white and black. The atmosphere was classy, however. Draco Malfoy waited impatiently for his inferior, muggleborn, running late co-worker. It was not like Granger to run late so often. He busied himself shaking hands with Malfoy Inc. employees, supporters and affiliates. He grabbed a handful of Cheez Doodles from the appetizer table. The caterers must have been middle school muggles, or Goyle's kids. Draco grimaced at the thought of Goyle and his wife Millicent procreating. Thankfully Blaise distracted him before homicidal tendencies struck.

"Where's Granger?" asked Zabini, surveying the vast majority of strangers.

"I'm not her keeper, she'll be around, why?"

"Do you know" Zabini paused, uncertain, "if she's bringing Ginny?"

"She's bringing _my_ date. I certainly hope it's not Ginerva Weasley-Potter. Not that i have much moral conduct, Zabini, but watch yourself. I wouldn't get too attached to a married woman, it's a sodding waste of time and will end poorly for you..."

Zabini stopped listening, and looked intently at the stairs, where Ms. Hermione Granger was making her grand entrance: hair down and curled daintily in ringlets, no frizz to be seen, the navy blue contrasted her pale skin, and a bit of gloss iced her lips. Draco noted Zabini stopped listening and followed his friends' eyes. Hermione was standing next to some guy.

Draco felt anger boil in his veins. "Granger," he said, approaching her. "may I have a word?"

"Certainly." she said, smugly.

"You look...decent, more than decent." He needed to change the topic before his mind lingered on her physical appearance any longer. "And where the bloody hell is my date?"

Hermione motioned to the man on the stairs. "Sammy is right there. I picked him up for you at Hancocks' Pub." Sammy winked in Draco's direction. Draco felt the anger boil in his veins, to the point where explosion may have been feasible. Granger brought him a man as his date.

"A man, you brought a man? This is low, Granger, this is very low."

"Perhaps you should specify next time, hm?"

* * *

**The pointlessness will be continued...**

Anyway, if you like the story, please review. Most reading are probably DM/HG shippers, so if you harbor any cliches you'd like me to incorporate -- speak up or forever hold your peace. I have a month free before my life becomes busy again, I'd love to write more if people still want more. : )

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	11. the company ball, part two

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**I know. I know. It's been awhile. I don't even have an excuse, man. But here you go! **DISCLAIMER:**I hereby swear I don't own any HP related materials, characters, etc. I don't even own half of the plot due to the excessive amount of intentional clichés.

* * *

_Where you left off: Everyone's favorite badass, Draco Malfoy, needs some ICE for that BURN. Having given Hermione the task of finding him a date, he now finds himself at the Company Ball, set up with a handsome male bartender named SAMMY. (Cheers reference anybody?) Let's see what unfolds next…

* * *

_

**Chapter 11: The Company Ball; part two: Raid & Rescue.**

Draco adjusted the collar of his tuxedo. His thoughts were racing faster with each footstep towards Hermione. This was embarrassing. A Malfoy was not going to be seen in publicly with a man-date. Yes, there has been some recent social-acceptability of the "Bro-mance" concept. But this …this, my friend, was not Laguna Beach or whatever that crap is. It is the Malfoy reputation – which until now included infamous seduction of countless gorgeous witches.

Draco walked towards Sammy and Hermione, stopping to shake the man's hand politely. "There has been some sort of misunderstanding, you see."

Sammy raised an eyebrow.

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Draco continued.

"I'm straight. I'm not into other men. I would not sleep with one on a boat. I would not sleep with one near a goat. I would not do it with a man… I would not do that, Sam I am."

(Insert prolonged and awkward silence, in which Draco gets back into character).

"My colleague" he motioned to Hermione "is clearly _incompetent_. Come, Granger. Nice to meet you, Sammy." Draco grabbed Hermione forcefully by the upper arm and pulled her towards a secluded area near a cluster of senile old men, smoking cigars.

"Malfoy, sod off. Get your own date next time. I am off to find mine." She shoved him roughly, as he teetered dangerously on the brink of losing balance. He watched Granger retreat back to the masses and eventually Viktor Krum.

Draco shuffled, quickly, to find Zabini who was talking up a corporate bigwig. "Pardon me. I need to talk to Mr. Zabini in private. Thank you."

"What's wrong with you?"

Draco pointed at Krum furiously, to which Zabini retorted "I thought you didn't care."

**Draco, who allegedly didn't care: **I _don't _care. I just want his autograph. I'm a fan.

**Zabini who knew better: **LOL! WTF! YEAH RIGHT, BRAH.

**Draco, a little disgusted: **Wow, never talk like that again.

* * *

Meanwhile, in Azkaban, a lot of convicts escaped.

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Corporate Ball, Draco caught a glimpse of Krum kissing Granger's neck and felt a surge of violence course through his body.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the arms of Quiddich Pro extraordinaire; Viktor Krum, Hermione Granger was scanning the room for her boss.

* * *

Meanwhile, several ex Death Eaters (yes, the escapees from Azkaban) with a vengeance against the Malfoy name heard wind of the Corporate Ball and decided, hey, why not crash it?

Dolohov and a relative of Crabbe's, specifically, were out for blood. They broke into a shop in Diagon Alley and commandeered some flashy dress robes/tuxedos. They looked nice. The Crabbe fellow was first to approach the door.

"Name please?" said the Bellhop.

Crabbe froze. He said the first thing he thought of. "Uhh… I'm… Jeremy, and this here is, well… John. We're brothers from Vermont, we have an emerging maple syrup conglomerate."

The bellhop looked skeptical. "I've seen that movie Wedding Crashers, you know."

Dolohov pushed his oaf of a friend to the side. "Bugger. Fine. AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A green light flashed. Dolohov sprinted into the ballroom and cast a dark mark above the stage where the orchestra was playing. The violinist looked horrified and fainted.

"WE ARE HERE TO AVENGE LORD VOLDEMORT." shouted Dolohov to the crowd. Several people laughed – it seemed so ridiculous. "CRUCIO!" A waiter fell down in writhing pain, from Crabbe's wand. "Mudbloods, we will find you. And we will finish what our Master failed to do."

Dolohov whispered something to Crabbe and motioned towards Hermione, having recognized her from the war. Crabbe knocked over several chairs en route to the girl and grabbed her firmly by the waist with his wand to her neck. Dolohov grabbed another. They apparated quickly with their hostages. _Pop. Pop._

Draco Malfoy's heart was beating even faster than it was at the start of this chapter. He sprinted up to Zabini and the not-so-straight bartender. "We need to find Hermione."

"Only if you admit you care." Blaise insisted.

"No. That's not practical, let's go, NOW."

"Admit it."

"No…" he paused, briefly reconsidering "Maybe for five sickles."

"No, you pansy. Own up to it."

"Fine. I sort of care."

"That so hard?"

"More than you'll ever know."

And so, they set forth on a magical adventure…

* * *

**TO BE CONTINUED. [insert suspenseful music].

* * *

**

**Mwuaha. Finally updated. I realize this chapter is a little jumbled. I threw a lot of random stuff in here so it's probably crap. I also have to add a disclaimer that I do not own the line from Wedding Crashers about the Maple Syrup business. Props to you, Vince Vaughn. You rock. **

**Anyway – the next chapter'll be a continuation of the clichéd rescue. But leave ideas for future clichés after that. I update more when I have ideas to work with. ******

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